


The Quiet Wolf

by Anetti



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 16:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16790191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anetti/pseuds/Anetti
Summary: (Y/N) Stark is the youngest daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, twin to Brandon. Known for her quiet demeanour and book centred lifestyle, she’s really not all that interest in her surroundings.At least not until her family is forced into the vicious world of the Game of Thrones.------Disclaimer: I do not own any of George R.R Martin's characters, or major plot points. I only take credit solely for this story.





	1. Into The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This story will hopefully be a lengthy one in the making, so please be patient. Also, this fic will follow closely to the TV series adaption of the book series. Also may include some book tidbits. Also, I haven’t watched the show in a while, so don’t come for me on that account. 
> 
> P.S. Will be subject to editing 
> 
> P.P.S. Cannot be bothered with the relationship tags at the mo
> 
> P.P.P.S. Subject to cringe

(Y/N) Stark came into the world like a whisper. 

Your twin Brandon howled with life as he was born, a full 12 minutes before you. He was wrapped in cloth then shown to your mother, the ladies who assisted Maester Luwin in the delivery gushed over how strong he would grow to be. 

Knowing there would be twins, Catelyn continued with the delivery, physically and mentally exhausted. "Here comes the second child, brace yourself Lady Catelyn," Maester Luwin said. 

Everyone had thought for you to be born like your brother, your first cry announcing your arrival. But when you came out of your mother’s womb, with not a sound to be heard, the celebratory cheers died. 

Maester Luwin rushed into action and followed a different protocol, the one reserved for the babes who did not cry. With Brandon calm at his mother's side, the room was too silent for that of a newborn babe. 

Your mother dismissed the lady who fretted at her side when she realised she could not hear any crying. “What is wrong?” she asked. She forced herself to sit upright. “Why is it not crying?”

The baby would usually begin crying after being pinched, or clapped on the rear; you still had not opened your eyes. Maester Luwin had seen few cases like yours, your lungs were not strong enough for the world outside your mother's womb.

“It is a girl, Lady Stark,” Maester Luwin said, “She is very weak, but she is breathing. If she makes it through the night, she will be fine.”

That night, your father prayed to the old gods and your mother to the new, begging them to spare your life. Winterfell was quiet in anticipation, in worry.

Catelyn Stark did not rest, despite her having little to no energy after childbirth. Your mother thought this to be divine punishment for her treatment of the bastard, Jon Snow. How could she rest when she was the cause for all of this? 

The sun rose on the next day to greet you, a babe who lay in her bed, wide awake. Your breathing had regulated and your (e/c) eyes were opened as if you had been asleep along. Maester Luwin checked over you and found that although you were still quite weak, you were otherwise okay. Though you still made no effort to cry, it was made apparent that was just apart of your character. 

(Y/N) Stark, first of her name, would due to this incident, and many more, be forever known as the Quiet Wolf.


	2. Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHOUT OUT TO AO3 USER 'Castellie' FOR BEING MY FIRST BOOKMARK EVER, I SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU
> 
> also
> 
> SHOUT OUT TO AO3 USER 'RG2104' FOR GIVING A KUDOS (as well as the other unnamed guests)

(Y/N) Stark at ten years old, is hiding from Septa Mordane in the Godswood, a book in hand. 

The Godswoods has always been one of your favourite places in Winterfell. From the moss covered earth to the hot springs to the craved weirwood tree especially, you love it all. The multitude of trees creates a canopy you can sit under all day, reading to your heart's content. 

Your twin Bran has just recently run off, leaving you to hide alone. If you weren't with your twin or in a lesson, you were most definitely in the Godswood. So you hope that Bran will make it out of the Godswood unseen to throw the Septa off track. She’ll look for you with Bran before she looks for you in the Godswoods, that's if your plan is executed properly.

This time that you have made to read solely rests on your twins actions. You can only hope he is able to pull it off and continue reading. 

You had first learned to read when you were three years old and had not stopped since. From dawn to dusk, and sometimes even long after, you are found with a book. It was now more unusual to see the youngest Stark daughter without a book than anything else. You read everywhere you can, at any time you can. One of the times when you are most definitely not allowed to read is during Septa Mordane’s lessons. It is a rule both the Septa as well as your mother had put into place, one which you promised not to break. 

You can’t break a promise, if you’re not there to keep it, right?

The lesson you are trying to avoid with the Septa is needlewook. You do not particularly hate needlework - that was more Arya’s thing - but you just can not abandon your book. You’re right at the climax and everything is finally falling into place. Besides, you still have time until the lesson starts, you can stil-

“(Y/N)!” Septa Mordane calls. “Here you are, hiding in the Godswood of all places! Come out from behind that tree, it is time for needlework, as I am sure you are well aware of.” 

You sigh and shut your book, you move to dust your dress off before you walk over to the Septa. You really thought you had time, Bran must have been caught. “I’m sorry, Septa Mordane, I didn't mean to hide, I was just-”

“Finishing a book?” says the Septa. You swear her eyes could cut you sharper than any needle you had ever touched. “I thought as much, but there is a time and place for books, my dear. Now is not that time, come along.”

You walk silently behind her and pull back out your book. You are sure you can finish this scene before you had to begin sewing. You’ve become so accustomed to reading and walking you no longer have to watch your step, your feet know Winterfell as well as your eyes. 

Septa Mordane glances back at you several times and shakes her head. You are quite rebellious in this regard but you are respectful about it.

As you pass other inhabitants of Winterfell, their greetings of, “Good morning, Lady (Y/N),” sound around you. As each person says their greetings, you look away from your book and acknowledge them.

Sure, you want to finish your book, but you’re not going to be rude about it. 

You walk past your brothers, Robb, Bran, Rickon, and your half-brother, Jon, as they join Theon in the courtyard. You pause where they stand and let your eyes drift over to you twin who shrugs apologetically, “sorry, (Y/N),” he mouths to you. 

You huff at him and Septa Mordane looks back at, “Move along, (Y/N), you are already late as it is,” she says. 

Theon looks at you with a laugh, “Caught running from your lessons again, (Y/N)?” he says. “I think it’s about time you learned to run faster or hide better, don’t you think?”

You glance up at him before you immediately turn back to your book, your face flushing. Robb lightly shoves him, but he has a smile on his face too. You quickly look up at Bran whose grin falters as you glare at him. 

You are definitely going to get back at him. 

You carry on reading as you make your way up the stairs. Just like you had previously predicted, you finish the chapters that make the climax, as you reach the room where your lessons are being held. 

“Take a seat, (Y/N),” says the Septa. 

You sit in your usual seat between Sansa and Arya, which is mostly to keep them from bickering.

As the Septa tends to the others girls present, Arya nudges your shoulder, “Where were you?” she says. 

“I was in the Godswood, reading,” you say, “sorry for being late,” 

Arya rolls her grey eyes, “I’m not angry about that, I’m angry you didn’t take me with you.” 

She grins at you and you return it, saying, “Next time.”

“There will be no next time,” says Sansa as she glares at the both of you, but mostly Arya. “Stop teaching (Y/N) your bad habits, Arya.” 

Arya scoffs, “Me? Teaching her bad habits? You’re the one basically trying to make her just like you!” 

“I’m just trying to teach her to be a lady, something that obviously failed with you,” Sansa resorts. It’s times like these Sansa had an attitude as fiery as her hair.

You look between your sisters, the tension between them raising.

As the youngest Stark daughter, your sisters believed you to be very impressionable, wanting to guide you in every way. Sansa wants you to be the perfect little lady like her, something she could never dream of doing with Arya. Arya on the other hand, wanted you to be like her, rebellious. In the end, both of your sisters just want to be the main influencer in your life. 

You would rather learn from both of them to be honest. 

Before you can interrupt your sisters, Sister Mordane shouts, “Sansa! Arya! Stop fighting with each other, and get back to your needlework.” 

“But Sansa started it!” says Arya.

Sansa scoffs, “I did not, you idiot.”

“I don’t care who started it, you both can finish it,” concludes the Septa.

Sansa huffs and turns away from Arya to continue with her work. Arya rolls her eyes and grudgingly resumes her sewing. 

You pick up the embroidery hoop and needle to carry on where you had left off. You are working on perfecting your letters - as is Arya - and trying to make your letters more elegant. You are trying to sew your house’s words, ‘Winter is Coming’, which is completely unoriginal, but you don't care. When you had started, you were hoping that sewing your house’s words would make you more inclined to try harder. And to be honest, it kind of does. 

You look over at Arya, who almost ruthlessly stabs the fabric to form her lettering. Though Arya may hate needlework, she always puts a surprising amount of feeling into her work. Even if it is more inclined to be out of spite. 

Septa Mordane walks towards Sansa and sits down in front of her, “Fine work as always, well done.” she says. 

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, smiling.

Sansa’s always been good at the womanly crafts, and her fingers always seemed to make embroidery look like it’s easy. She made being graceful, and beautiful, look effortless. But you know that's just Sansa. She’s been a lady since she was three. 

Septa Mordane goes on to compliment Sansa’s embroidery as Arya continues to stab at her own. Sounds of laughter waft into the room and Arya intently listens, drawing your attention to it as well. Arya glances back at Septa Mordane who is occupied with Sansa and the other girls. She quietly places down her embroidery hoop and needle, before inching away towards the door. 

Arya had always managed to be graceful in that regard. She could escape a barely occupied room unseen, in broad daylight too. When you weren't looking at a book, you always managed to catch her though. 

Arya looks back once more at Septa Mordane before she steps out the door, she instead catches your (e/c) eyes. She smiles at you and tilts her head out the door.

An invitation. 

You set your hoop down and follow your older sister out the door, the Septa thankfully still occupied with the others. You sneak down the hallway and out onto the balcony that overlooks the courtyard where Bran is practicing his archery. Arya leaves to go downstairs, and you follow suit after seeing your parents not too far away. You hide behind a post and you can’t see Arya anywhere. 

Robb, Jon, Theon, and Rickon, all watch as Bran draws his arrow. You see Jon say something to Bran as he loosens up. 

Robb stares on, “Relax your bow arm,” he advises. 

Just as Bran prepares to let his arrow fly, another arrow shoots straight past him, hitting the bulls eye. All heads turn to where the arrow came from, and Arya finally reveals her hiding spot. She curtsies at Bran with a proud grin on her face, and bow in hand. Laughter sounds as Bran chases after a giggling Arya. 

Looks like this is revenge enough for Bran, you think. 

You laugh as you watch your siblings, which unfortunately, is the exact time Septa Mordane figures out you and your sister are gone. 

“Arya! (Y/N)!” she shouts into the courtyard. 

Oh no, you are definitely in trouble now.


	3. The King and his Hoard

Today is the day King Robert and his family are due to arrive in Winterfell, and you could care less about it.

Winterfell has been in a flurry of activity for the last month in preparation. Food needed to be stored and accounted for, multiple barrels of ale needed to be shipped in, and Winterfell needed to be spotless prior to their arrival. 

You, of course, know that the King's presence in Winterfell is definitely not a social call.

Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, died last month. Your father and King Robert had both been fostered by Jon Arryn in their adolescence. After Robert's Rebellion was won and Robert became the king, it was only natural that Jon Arryn would become his most trusted adviser. Now that he’s dead, King Robert wants your father to take over his position in King's Landing.

You would never say it aloud as your Septa would have your tongue, but you know it is so King Robert can continue to spend money on whores and ale. Which is why your mother had so many barrels shipped in. 

As today is the day your family has been waiting for, you are clothed in your finest dress and furs. Your (h/l) (h/c) in a neat braid. You don’t mind being all dressed up of course, as a young noble lady, you are used to it. You just hate you had to do it while waiting for your father to be whisked off to King's Landing. 

You are much like your father, as many have said. Your reserved personality and quiet demeanor mirrors ‘The Quiet Wolf’ your father is known as. Most people even refer to you as such in the North.

“(Y/N), I see them!” Bran says, “The king and his family are almost here!”

You look up from your current read towards the top of the Eastern wall where your brother shouts at you from. He has a smile from ear to ear and he quickly climbs his way down the side. 

You're not as agile and athletic as your twin but like the day you both were born, you follow your brother quietly, and closely behind. Only on the ground, and with a book of course. 

As you have no lessons and your mother had asked you to stay out of the Godswood for today, you accompanied your twin. Bran wanted to watch out for the King and his company today, so he’s been climbing the Eastern wall all morning waiting to see the sigils. 

You watch as you brother skillfully scales the walls, both of your direwolves waiting beside you. 

It was a surprise to the whole of Winterfell when your father returned with a litter of seven direwolf pups. There had not been a direwolf sighted south of the wall in 200 years. A direwolf was gifted to each of the Stark children, including, an albino pup for your bastard half-brother Jon Snow. 

Your twin has spent weeks trying to name his direwolf, even now Bran only refers to him as "boy". You had taken one look at your direwolf and gifted her the name, (D/N). She shares the same yellow eyes as your brothers direwolf, however, her fur is a much more muted tone of grey. 

Like all your siblings direwolves, (D/N) is a reflection of yourself. She is much calmer than the rest of her siblings. 

Your mother rounds the corner with Maester Luwin and spots you and your direwolf companions. “Gods but they grow fast,” your mother says. She smiles at you before she snaps her head to where Bran continues to descend the wall, a frown taking over. “Brandon!” she calls. 

Your mother only called Bran, Brandon when she’s mad at him. Which is every time she catches him climbing. 

Your twin pays no mind to the anger in your mother’s voice. “I saw the King,” he says as he climbs down, “he's got hundreds of people!” 

“How many times have I told you; no climbing,” she lectures. 

She's grateful you don't have a penchant for climbing as well, and your figure at the bottom of a wall is always a good indicator of where Bran is. Now that your direwolves accompany you as well, the three of you make quite the crowd. 

Though, she still wishes Bran would stop his dangerous hobby. 

“But he's coming right now!” he says climbing across the straw roof, “down our road.” 

As your brother settles back onto the ground, your mother bends down to speak to him. “I want you to promise me,” she says, “No more climbing.”

You twin looks down at his feet before he meets your mother's eyes, “I promise,” he says.

Your mother straightens her back, “Do you know what,” she asks.

“What,” Bran answers.

“You always look at your feet before you lie.”

Maester Luwin laughs along with Bran and you, she is right. 

“Run and find your father, tell him the King is close,” she says to him. 

Bran leaves while his direwolf trails behind him. You make your way to stand and follow but your mother stops you, “Wait, (Y/N),” she says. She bends down to your height and says, “I need you to go and wait with Sansa. I know you're not too happy about all of this, but you must behave.” You sigh and nod slowly at your mother, she offers you a small smile. 

Your mother stands straight and nods her head at the book in your hands. “And don't forget to return that book to Maester Luwin’s turret after you're done with it,” she says in mock anger. 

You look sheepishly towards Maester Luwin, who you are sure knows that you rumble through his turret in search of new reads. Maester Luwin just offers you a nonchalant smile. 

“Go on then, to your sister,” your mother says. You walk away with a smile, (D/N) following beside you.

-//-

You stand in line between Bran and Hodor, as the Southerners ride through Winter Town. All of Winterfell stands in neat rows to greet them. You have half the mind to pull out your book you're so bored.

Bran is all smiles and excitement as he spots knights from the King’s guard in their pristine white cloaks. Bran’s always been one for adventure and he talks non-stop of becoming a knight someday. The North has knights, but you know that Bran dreams of leaving Winterfell to explore the world, even if he hasn't told you. 

It's just a twin thing.

“Where’s Arya?” your mother questions, her blue eyes searching for your mischievous older sister. “Sansa, where's your sister?” Sansa shrugs at her, unbothered. 

Arya soon comes barreling along the front row, a helmet on her head. She rushes towards her place in line before your father grabs her arm, “Hey hey hey hey. What are you doing with that on?” he asks, taking it off her head. She stares up at him bashfully as you see smirks on the faces of Robb, Theon, and Jon. “Go on,” your father says, and your sister takes her place in line. 

She walks closer to Bran and shoves him slightly, “Move,” she says to him. 

The King and his men ride through the gates, and you see Prince Joffrey on his horse. He and your sister look at each other with slight smiles their faces, Robb also watches the exchange. 

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. 

You had heard how the Prince is a right prick from Robb’s conversations with Theon and Jon. You have a sneaky suspicion that this might be used to form a marriage alliance between House Stark and House Baratheon. There was once a time when your Aunt Lyanna and King Robert were to be the ones who did so, but you know how that story ended.

Once the King is in sight, everyone lowers themselves in greeting to him. The King dismounts his house and approaches your father, pot belly and all. Robert was said to be very handsome in his younger days, a young maiden’s dream. That's all you suppose that was now, a dream. 

King Robert motions for your father to stand and everyone follows suit. “Your Grace,” your father greets, his head dips in respect. 

Tension passes between them before the King says, “You’ve gotten fat.” Everyone waits in anticipation.

Your father instead gestures to the King, and the pair breaks out in laughter. King Robert pulls your father into an embrace as the tension easily melts away.

A grin takes his face as she greets your mother, “Cat,” he says, pulling her into a hug. 

“Your Grace,” she answers. 

He rubs Rickon's head and makes his way back to your father. “Nine years, why haven't I seen you? Why the hell have you been?” he says, his cheeks red.

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace,” he answers.

Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella and Queen Cersei, exit the carriage as the Queen prepares to greet your parents as well.

“Where’s the imp?” Arya asks Sansa, and you take notice of it as well. 

The Queen’s younger brother Tyrion Lannister was nowhere to be found. Your mother had to prepare more candles as it is said that he likes to read deep into the night. Once you found out that he likes to read as much as you, you became slightly more excited about the whole situation. 

Sansa turns towards Arya, annoyed, “Will you shut up.” 

“Who have we here?” the King says, making his way through your family. “You must be Robb.” Robb nods as they shake hands. He moves to Sansa. “My, you're a pretty one,” he says. He's right of course but Sansa still looks down, shy. “Your name is?” he asks your other sister.

“Arya,” she says simply. 

He nods and sees Bran, “Oh, show us your muscles,” he says, your twin doing just that. He smiles kindly at him, “You’ll be a soldier.” Bran beams up at him.

The King finally reaches you and asks, “Ah, the other twin,” he says. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you say looking up at him. 

He stares at you a little longer, “You have Ned written all over you, not your looks though, thank the Gods,” he says letting out a laugh. He moves back towards your father and you let out a breath.

“That’s Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s twin brother,” Arya pipes up.

You and Bran look at each other before you both turn to him. You don't meet another set of twins every day. What you both find to be even more interesting is that this was the Kingslayer as well. 

“Would you please, shut up,” Sansa retorts.

The Queen approaches your father and offers her hand. Your father places a kiss on her hand, “My Queen,” he says. 

Queen Cersei looks like gold, just like her brother, just like the Lannisters. She embodies grace and wealth. 

“Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects,” calls King Robert.

“We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait,” says Cersei. 

King Robert ignores her and calls, “Ned.” The pair travel towards the crypt, the disregard the King has for his Queen made apparent. 

He probably wants to visit the woman he actually wanted to marry, you think. 

Robert and Cersei’s marriage may have been purely political, but as was your parents, Robert and Cersei look as if they barely tolerate each other. 

“Where's the imp?” asks Arya once more.

The Queen overhears her and addresses her twin, “Where is our brother? Go find the little beast,” she orders. 

Not on good terms with your younger brother either, Queen Cersei, you add to yourself. 

Everyone knows it’s because Tyrion is an imp, but their mother died in childbirth with him, that Lady Joanna Lannister. Maybe the Queen blames him for that as well. 

-//-

The feast is alive with the sound of music and laughter. Joyous conversations echo throughout the dining hall. All things you happily avoid in favour of your book.

Luckily for you, you are seated with your back turned to your mother, if she knew that you were reading at the table she would definitely take the book off you.

You pick at the food, your twin eating his full on your right. “What’cha reading now?” he says.

“I’m reading, ‘History of the Kings beyond the Wall’,” you reply without glancing up from it. 

Your twin enjoys reading as well, you just do it more obsessively. Reading is one of your only passions, while Bran has many.

“Oh,” Bran says, “I thought we already read that one?” 

“We read up to the third King, I’m just finishing it off,” you answer.

Bran nods his head in agreement, “Tell me if anything exciting happens.”

“Always,” you say as you turn the page. 

Sansa moves from her spot and walks behind you, the Queen has summoned her. Your eyes discreetly follow her as she makes her way towards the Queen. Being nosy is a side effect of your curiosity. You can barely hear what they're saying over the sound of everyone's voices, but you don't have to guess too hard. 

Queen Cersei is assessing her son’s future wife. 

You lower your face to your book as your sister walks back to her seat. You see Joffrey looking at her and you now openly roll your eyes, hidden by the covers of the book. 

Arya beside you seems to be up to something, and by the look in her eyes, it’s not good. Your suspicions are confirmed as Arya lets her loaded spoon fly towards Sansa, the food hitting her square in the face. Your eyes go wide as Arya breaks out into a fit of giggles, you hear Robbs deep laughter as well. Septa Mordane makes her way to Sansa at an attempt to calm your distressed sister. 

Robb’s laughter abruptly stops as he makes his way to your sister, your mother must have caught him. “Time for bed,” he says, lifting her away from the table. He sets her back on the floor and ushers her towards her bedchambers, glancing at your mother. 

You look towards Bran who is talking with some boy next to him. You nudge his should gently, “I’m going to go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” you say to him. He nods at you and turns back to his friend. 

You exit the table and hold the thick book close to your chest and as you pass your mother's table, you dip into a small curtsy. The Queen's voice stops you before you can leave. “Wait,” she says, “Come closer child.”

You do as she says and approach her at your mother's side, “Yes, My Queen?” you bow your head respectfully towards her. 

“You’re one the twins, correct?” she says. The way she looks at you looks at you makes you suspicious, but you don’t let it show. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” you respond. 

She smiles at you, “Are you two close? I know Jaime and I were at your age.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” you simply. 

Cersei leans slightly forward on her hands. “Are your bedchambers close?”

You pause, “Yes, Your Grace.”

What is she trying to get at? You think. 

“They had to move to separate bedchambers when they were five as (Y/N) had been reading late into the night, which kept Bran up as well,” your mother joins.

Cersei’s eyes drift to the book in your hand, “That's a young age to start reading. Especially late at night.” Her eyes travel to your face and she pauses before she says, “You’re quite pretty as well, aren't you. So many flowers hidden in the North.”

You wait for a few seconds, then bow your head. “Thank you for the compliment, Your Grace.” 

You do not think too much on her calling you pretty, it is a common thing to say to young girls. Sansa deserves her compliments, but you are not sure, or rather you don’t really care if you do. You care more about the fact that she is interested in you at all.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Your Grace, Mother,” you begin. “I am far too tired and am in need of some rest.”

Cersei sighs and then smiles, “Very well, sweet dreams (Y/N).”

You look towards your mother who smiles at you, “Thank you, Your Grace,” you say before you bow and walk out the dining hall. You feel Cersei’s eyes on you the entire way.


	4. help me

Hello, everyone!

i am struggling 

It has come to my attention that the reader is at a very young age, which makes it questionable if the reader should enter romantic relationships. I have been seriously considering another version of this story where the reader is born after Sansa and before Arya. This would allow for romantic sub plots to occur while still having the younger sister dynamic.

There are also many other factors i put into consideration and it is tearing my sanity apart

Please let me know if you would prefer the original version or the aged up version. I truly value your input and opinions as i need clarity. If you have any ideas or questions about the story, i would ECSTATIC to hear them. 

i would also be happy to continue with this version if that is what you desire

Thank you all so much for reading so far, comment as much and as quickly as you can!!

i love you and pls save me


	5. ANNOUNCEMENT: im trash

hola fellow pepes, although the tittle is true i also have another announcement

I am re-writing!!! 

It will be posted under another story, with the same name, when i get around to it. To be honest i just want to be more poetic and have reader-chan have more character development. All in all i wasn't completely satisfied with the story's turn of events, rather how i explained them, if its not perfect its not worth it. (To me, and for me, i'm a Slytherin)

Anyways, i will leave this story here for any of you who like it, however it will be discontinued. 

Thank you to everyone who gave kudos, commented, and bookmarked this story!

I am a major slut for people's attention so thank you all!

See you soon.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING!!!


End file.
